‘Australia was her home for a long time. It holds a piece of her heart, as do you. It was important for her to come.’
‘Of course.’
‘She knows …’ Nancy reached out a hand and the warmth of it was almost too much to bear. ‘We both know how hard this time of the year is for you. But this is where she wanted to be for Christmas. I’ll do whatever I can to make it one of her best, and I know you will too.’
The warning was there in Nancy’s promise: Don’t make this about you. Put Lenore first.
‘Of course.’ Even as she repeated the refrain, the only words she seemed to be able to form, her heart rate went into overdrive. Not only would she have to play host, she would have to pretend to enjoy the celebration. Show Lenore she’d come to terms with her past and had finally been able to move on.
She glanced out to the living room where the naked tree stood, waiting to be dressed. A few shopping bags of ornaments, tinsel and lights sat beside it. Buying them and dumping them there was as much as she’d managed to do. Bringing herself to open the boxes and actually decorate the damned thing had been impossible.
But that would have to change.
She drew her attention back to the woman sitting opposite her at the table. Ten years of a relationship and five years of marriage was far too short a time to spend with the love of your life, and yet Nancy was stoic, doing whatever she could to make memories for Lenore in the time she had left. Good memories. Wonderful memories. Memories that would last a lifetime, no matter how short that might be. If Nancy could put aside her own grief then she could too. Past and present. This Christmas her own pain would have to take a back seat. This Christmas was all about Lenore.
She dragged her iPad across the table and opened her to-do list. The tree was up and the pink and silver decorations bought, even if not yet put to use. Time to think about Item Number 3.
‘Traditional English meal for Christmas lunch or Aussie-style prawns on the barbecue? What do you think she’d prefer?’
A small smile crept across Nancy’s face. ‘As long as there’s pudding and hot custard to follow, I’m sure Lenore would be happy with either. In fact, why not both?’
‘Why not?’
Fingers flying across the keypad, she started on a shopping list, choking back the rising acid as she thought about preparing a Yuletide feast. This year, the past was not going to win.
Chapter 9
‘Who’s she?’ Owen stood in the centre of the room, tipping his nose at Lenore, seated in a chair beside the desk. In an olive floral kaftan and matching turban, she made quite the imposing sight, even with her reduced size.
‘This is Lenore Douglas, my old university supervisor and mentor. She’s visiting from the UK and asked if she could sit in on some of my sessions.’ It had been an odd request, one that didn’t exactly gel with patient confidentiality, but in the spirit of granting a dying woman her wish, Hannah could hardly have denied her. Luckily, Lenore had kept up her registration. ‘On the proviso that you don’t mind. She won’t be participating in the session, just observing.’
Owen gave a quiet snort. ‘Making sure you don’t freak out again, you mean.’
Hannah’s fingers tightened around the edges of her notebook. If the snarky comment made an impression on Lenore, she didn’t let it show; her expression remained neutral.
‘Doesn’t make any difference to me.’ Owen shrugged and threw himself into his seat.
Having Lenore sitting in the corner of the room was like time travelling back to uni days, to the roleplay scenarios that had formed part of their assessments. Just as she’d done then, Hannah took a quick breath and turned her chair slightly so she could at least try to avoid the feeling of being watched.
‘Thanks for coming in again, Owen. Let’s pick up where we left off.’ She glanced down at her notes—not that she needed a reminder of their first session; it was carved into her memory like a poorly inked tattoo, bleeding all over her hippocampus. ‘After you left here last week you went to the hotel rather than meeting your brother as arranged.’
A customary shoulder lift. Eyes averted. ‘I had time to kill.’
‘You’re undergoing mandated counselling and you’re underage. Do you think drinking in a hotel is a wise decision?’
‘How did you even know I was there? Did Cole ring up and dob me in?’
Damn. She’d walked right into that trap. Could hardly confess to getting a lift into town with his brother when she’d cut their session short. Fast thinking required. ‘He … I saw him when I went to get a tree and he mentioned it. He’s concerned about your welfare.’
The upward curl of Owen’s lip suggested he didn’t give a toss about any of his brother’s concerns. But how much of it was genuine and how much was bravado? The kid had little consideration for rules of any kind—that type of rebelliousness had to have a root cause. If she could get to the bottom of that, she might be able to find a chink in his armour.
‘How were things at home with your parents, before you went to live with Cole?’
‘Same as always.’
‘And how’s that?’
‘Boring.’